Action Bronson - Barry Horowitz

To the back with the hat, lean back in the 'llacCrack the window, hear the soldier styles and that in backAin't no "Cat in the Hat," just a cat that can rapThis is Bronson - representing Flushing, Queens on the mapYeah - heavyweight primate with a Harvard mindBlunts filled with the citrus mixed with orange limePussy drip when the thought of Action come to mindBorn to ride, winter spring summer shineBonafide, eyes wide, run and hideYou don't want the revolution to be televisedTerrorfied from the Arab mountain death campsWith the iron burning hot, give you chest stampsPhone calls with the cloth over the mouthpieceWith or without leaf, burn about an ounce chiefTo the neck like a razor for the stubbleRaised inside the struggle, blazin in the huddle yeahDig a hole, throw the lamb in itLeft the slippers in the sand motherfuckers couldn't stand in it

("Someone took the words to my song") ding ding ding

It's Barry Horowitz rap, I pat myself on the backDon't fake the funk on a nasty dunk, Shaq I attackClose the window to your soul, weed inside my lungs burnThese old suckers gettin placed into a young urnSpecialized like the little busUse my chubby little finger first to stimulate the clitorisKing Kong ain't got shit on usI'm out here gettin it for real while you motherfuckers filibustWeed in my finger flicker, I'm on a solo missionStarted at pole position, eyes on the long divisionAs it burn my thumb, I roll another oneQuite persistant, that's why they call me my mother's sonShoot the cold gift, leave your ho stiffMake your ho sniff Hootie and the BlowfishObey the coke kingCause every motherfucker in rockin loaded, I'm on that old shit!